


the top of the world

by maevestrom



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem), Love Confessions, Missing Scene, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom
Summary: In the last week before the final battle, Edelgard and Byleth share a few moments at the Goddess Tower.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	the top of the world

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday El I just wanna inform anyone following me I played Crimson Flower first and I have never more enjoyed an experience than I have playing through that path, I do not think the other two paths will compete, Edeleth is my favorite thing ever, Edelgard has mannerisms that remind me of my girlfriend, and this was a long time coming. A lot of things inspired this- one scene in particular, "my Byleth" was inspired by Sundoodle on Tumblr- but I just... I love this. I love everything about this fuck I MISS HERRR 
> 
> *pouts and gets back to Golden Deer*

"Hello, Edelgard." 

I'd hoped that by now I'd no longer be scared out of my wits when you greet me, but after a five-year absence, you've dragged me back into the habit. You've always had your own habit of showing up unannounced no matter what I'm doing, abruptly greeting me specifically when I'm not ready for it. It's supernatural, my teacher, and in my last waking moments before sleep envelops me I wonder if it's deliberate, an instinct to catch me off guard, but I assume that it's not. You've never been someone deliberate, if I may say so myself.

Still, I suppose that it's all moot when I immediately jump at your presence, sucking in a sharp breath. I'm thankful that I no longer shriek at the sound of your presence, but I am still embarrassed. 

You nod. "My apologies." 

"Quite all right," I excuse weakly. I can't help but add "you do have a tendency of doing that." 

You nod again. "I've been trying to make my presence clearer. I'll put more effort into it." How just like you, my teacher. You never take my criticism personally, nor seem to realize why I feel such a way. That you've only been back for a few months after a five-year absence and I've yet to successfully convince myself that you are real. That even if you'd been here every day of those five years, I'd likely still feel the same way. 

Or, the most pressing and situation-dependent: "How did you find me here, of all places?" Grandly, I gesture to the interior of the goddess tower that we are both in as if introducing it to you.

"You weren't anywhere else." 

I turn away as though I'm any good at hiding my blush. Forgive me, my teacher. It seems that the simplest of statements I read into far too much- at least when it comes to you. "You were looking for me?"

If you find my behavior odd, you say nothing. "I was," you say simply. “I’d thought not to check on here because I assumed it was off-limits, as it was during my monastery days. Then I remembered that you commandeer the monastery now, so there's no reason to adhere to the rule.”

I blush again, this time at the reminder that I have in fact taken over Garreg Mach with brute force. Do I regret taking it from the Church of Seiros? Not exactly, but it does still remind me of how they and many others see me as a brutal dictator, and I am doing myself no favors. "I  _ do  _ find this place at least  _ somewhat  _ sacred," I defend. "So generally, you  _ would  _ be right not to look here. I just…" I'm not sure how to best describe how I'm feeling, so my words peter out there. I'm not sure I want to expose the vulnerabilities in my heart right now.

You seem to read my mind. "We're marching to the Tailtean Plains this week," you say as though answering an unsaid question. 

In essence, you are. I bow my head. "We are." 

You nod, then nod again upon seeing my countenance, one I assume is crestfallen. "I understand. It won't be easy." Though you show so little emotion that I wonder if you are sincere or if you are trying to console me. You've never been one for outward emotion, and the look in your eyes is often so blase that I often wonder if you experience inward emotion. 

"No," I agree, "but it must be done." 

You nod, blinking, and walk closer to my side. You know that I'm not keen on physical touch most of the time, so your hands rest on the balcony. I face the same way you are and do the same. It is evening; the air is cool and there is a slight sprinkle of rain I can feel seep through my gloves. It rains often in Great Tree Moon; I can only hope that it doesn't on the day of the battle. You glance at me a few times, looking as blank and unreadable as ever. It's something I've had to get used to; I've done better at it but that just makes the moments where you get under my skin more of a shock. Don't think I've forgotten about how you called me cute (twice!) when a rat decided to ruin a perfectly relaxing evening. 

(I know you haven't. You tend to think twice as to what to say lately, but I can discern what the glint in your eyes means.)

You look out at the view, gray skies painting the fields beneath in dull saturation. Instead, I look at you. At first glance, no one would know that you're a dangerous mercenary who often uses gauntlets or her bare fists to stunning effect. Your hair is a mess a color similar to the pale green carnations you nonchalantly gifted me a few months back (knowing damn well that carnations are my favorite flower). You insist on wearing the summer outfit of white and parchment brown, the tube skirt complimenting a slight frame in a way that I'll never admit that I've thought about. Your glasses are the most audacious part; I'd only ever seen a pair on Ignatz and they certainly masked his talent with a bow and arrow. 

(Again, I am thankful that he joined my side when I started the war. I'm still stunned that anyone did at all.)

You look at the view with the other state commonly visible on you- curiosity. You have a detached interest in many things and I can see it in your eyes and body language before you remove all doubt and turn your entire body towards something that captures it. I admire what I see… often too intensely for my own comfort. I try to tear my eyes away from you, but you have a way of getting me to lower my defenses.

Finally, you mumble "it's just me." 

I tear my eyes away from you and nearly throw my head towards the view. "Huh?" 

"It's just me, Edelgard; it's nothing special."

Oh, my teacher, you've no idea how wrong you are. I think of something to say in order to defuse the situation, but my traitorous eyes catch the side of your face again. What I see catches me off guard.

"Are you  _ blushing _ ?" 

You fold your arms on the balcony and look towards me. "Am I?" 

Oh, goodness, you  _ are.  _ You're blushing profusely. How in the name of the goddess did I provoke such a reaction from you? Still, I can't stave off the desire to comment on it in an impish manner. "How adorable." 

You choke and spit out a small chuckle, facing the view once more. "Thank you," is all you say. Instantly, I feel worse than before that my instinctive response to you teasingly calling me cute before was to use imperial authority to stop you from making fun of me… yet at the same time, my heart hastens. Did you honestly mean that? Did I actually affect you with my compliment?

I'm… not sure how to take that, so I mumble "you're welcome". You smile, just a bit, and I'm certainly not sure how to take that. 

Things get quiet between the two of us. I want to get a little closer to you, but my self-defense instincts want me to move further away. Perhaps I can hole myself in my room once more. As if noticing the tension in our silence, you ask "have you been here since I was gone?" 

I blanch. "No," I lie.

"Then how did you find me?" 

"Damn it," I sigh. I'd almost forgotten that I'd reunited with you in the goddess tower. "I, uh… I suppose…" 

"It's okay," you tell me. "The goddess never struck me as one to smite you for visiting a building." 

Oh yes. I'd forgotten that you've claimed to me that the goddess is part of you, told with such uninvolved bluntness that I'd no choice but to believe that such a wild confession was the truth. "That's, uhm, reassuring, I'll admit." With a deep breath: "I did visit here occasionally when you were absent, but not since your return." 

"Were you worried I'd judge you?" The effect on your voice tells me that I'd be silly to worry.

"Not that. I'd simply no need to at that point." 

_ I'd already found you. _

"I understand," is all you say. I wonder if you do. 

A few seconds pass before you add "It's not very fun to visit alone. It's a nice view-"  _ The best in the monastery _ , I think. "-but outside of that it feels like… the top of the world. Exceptionally lonely." 

I've only heard the phrase  _ on top of the world  _ as a declaration of jubilation or pride, and yet you make it sound so soul-crushingly hollow. I think about how you slept for five years, me searching for you despite witnessing what seemed like your death. I wonder if you experienced every moment, your soul in a void that you couldn't escape from. You don't like to talk about it and I don't like to push you about it. Your countenance always slips like mine does when I remember my traumas; it's too raw to bear without guilt.

I realize in my haze that I have edged closer to you. It wasn't intentional, but I cannot bring myself to reverse the course. Your presence… it is warm, comforting… magnetizing. So I stay.

"I remember being here," you say. "Back in the monastery when I was teaching. I'd heard of the legends about this place about thirty different ways from thirty different people, so I made my own interpretation of it to follow when the ball happened." 

"That… that seems fair," I respond, stumbling over my own tongue. I admit that I've done the same, in part due to not believing in the faith, and in part wanting something to believe in. I did away with a few parts- specifically, the part about requiring a man and woman together to make a wish. It… interfered with my goal… and how it took me an hour of lonely and restless dancing to dare myself to follow you up there.

_ El, you are preparing to start a war, and yet you cannot follow the teacher to somewhere vaguely romantic? _

"It was boring waiting alone," you continue. "Though perhaps that was because I was waiting in the corner so as not to interrupt visitors that were not you. Once you appeared… I think that's when I noticed the view for the first time."

I lean my head down on my hands, so flustered that I dare not speak, only smile. You have a way of making me feel younger than I would like, Byleth, but I cannot say that I hate it. 

"You talked about your parents. How they met." You glance at me a few times. I'm helpless if you wish to tease me, but you do not. "You told me about yourself, but it was… nightmares. Tragedy. Trauma. It… was necessary to tell, but you hated doing so. Here was… the most I'd seen you happy." 

I feel as though I might be rivaling that. My heart is pounding against my ribs, and my breath is labored. You usually do not talk much about me in such a frank way. It's unusual for you, I now realize. 

"I admit, a lot of what I told you otherwise… I wanted you to understand my motives when I did reveal myself to you as the Flame Emperor. I…" I close my eyes. I was oddly invested in making sure that you didn't see me as a monster.

"I'm very honored that you did that," you admit. "The Church gave me a bad feeling. 

"Naturally," I scoff. You chuckle slowly. It's the most I can get from you.

"And looking back… there were no motivations that drove you to tell me about your parents, were there?"

I lie and shake my head. 

"Jeralt never directly told me too much about Sitri," you admit. I'm still unnerved by how you address your parents by name. "A few months before…" You swallow. You still can't say it. "I met him at her grave. He told me about her then… in a way that makes me wonder if he knew. He was… resigned, ever since we moved here." 

I'm not entirely sure what you mean, but it's grave enough that I don't press you on it. You look at me with a smile that I nearly delude myself into thinking shy. 

"Didn't we make wishes on that night?" You ask.

I nearly choke on my tongue. "Uh, I, uhm… I can't remember." Gods, I'm such a bad liar. I remember what I wished for. 

"I thought we did. Maybe it was just me. Looking back, I wonder if the goddess listened. She  _ was  _ there that night, after all." 

I look at the fields below. I'm not sure what to say, but I know the biggest thought in my head. It seeks to escape my traitorous mouth, so I let it- not giving up, but giving in.

"What did you wish for?" 

"Hmm?" 

Oh, goddess, do  _ not  _ make me drag it out. "If the goddess had an influence, I  _ am  _ curious as to what you wished for." Though I would be anyways. 

"Oh, yes," you respond. You tuck your chin below your hands, and this time there is no mistaking how shy you are. You take what was likely supposed to be a deep breath and settle for three shallow ones.

Then: "El, do you still have nightmares?" 

I bow my head. I'd hoped that you'd not bring them to mind. "Yes, though of a different sort after you l-"

Wait.

I jerk my head up and point at myself. Your eyes follow me, then once more, they're downcast, but you smile tenderly. 

"Yes," you admit. "I wished for your nightmares to cease." 

Tears well up in my eyes. I'm so struck that I could fall out. "Byleth…"

"I didn't like that… sometimes I could hear them. Even after the first night. You were strong but vulnerable, and it made you human, but… I didn't want you to suffer. I wish you didn't have to, Edelgard. I know you can't help it, that you have accepted it, but…"

"Byleth," I whisper. Feeling risky (honestly, feeling a consuming amount of emotion that I struggle to discern), I place my hand beneath your chin and tilt your head up. You meet my eyes and look at me as though I'm the progenitor god and not you. "More than you know, you've comforted me. You made me feel like a person, not just a political player, not just a dictator, not just… merciless. If you'd never bestowed care on me, never bestowed a listening ear…" I swallow a sob down. "My teacher, if you didn't understand me enough to side with me, I would- I'd have done what I needed to, but I'd not have… I'd not be who I was.”

“El,” you whisper, an awestruck incantation.

“Byleth, I need to finish,” I tell her. I can’t believe I’m saying this now and if I hesitate I will cease. “Few treat me as a person. Those who did often ceased after the war started. But you've never wavered in showing me grace, that I was a human being, that I should keep my humanity…" I'm rambling at this point. My words are coming out like a hail fire of arrows but damned if I care. I'm too far in at this point to truly care. "It's what I wished for, Byleth. That you would understand me."

Your eyes widen in genuine shock, one that I'm unused to seeing on your face. "Me?"

"I wish I wasn't so selfish, my teacher, but I was… I was young, I was vulnerable, and you were the first-" No, no, don't go there. Not yet. "I wanted you to stay with me. As fanciful as the idea was, as selfish as I felt for it, to the point where I didn't explicitly wish for it… I wanted that." 

"You'd never have to wish for that," you tell me. Your voice is more animated than I've heard it, tempered by shallow breaths. "You're amazing, El. I'm amazed at how you turned your trauma into your driving force." 

“My driving force…” It is impossible for me to think of my trauma as such sometimes. I fear that it would lead to me justifying the siblings that I’ve lost, the life that I’ve lost, as somehow worth it. Maybe future historians will say that it is worth it. To me, it wasn’t. Still…

“I don’t know much about people, and only a little more about loss,” you say. “But so many people have faced tragedy and haven’t made what you made out of it. They can’t. They’re not you. You took control of it, and I- I admire you so.” 

Is there even a gap between us for me to bridge at this point? In any case, it's gone now. I grab your hands like I'll be captured bu the breeze otherwise and say "I admire you too." You loosen up at that. "No, admire isn't a strong enough word. I don't know how to define how I feel about you, but it's  _ so  _ strong."

"It's okay, El. I promise." Before I can respond, you add "This is the most I've spoken in ages, honestly, so forgive my babbling."

I giggle. "Goodness. Don't worry, my Byleth-"

You laugh, short and sharp like a whip. " _ My _ Byleth? Bold, aren't you?"

I blush. I hadn't settled on calling you my teacher or Byleth. "Gah, my tongue is tied." 

"I can fix that." 

I gasp at your  _ own  _ boldness, but your typical bluntness is an aphrodisiac to me and I nod, smiling with the giddiness of a child on her birthday.

You kiss me. It's easy to tell that you've never kissed anyone nor did you expect to, even before today. Neither have I, however, so at the very least I take comfort in your own clumsiness. Besides, I am kissing  _ you.  _ As if I'm not the emperor, but a lovestruck twenty-three-year-old girl who has no clue how to deal with her emotions. As if you're not the vessel of the progenitor god, but a woman who I know, can't believe, but know nonetheless cares about me, doesn't treat this as a light fling before the final battles, and… maybe feels towards me something akin to how I feel about her.

Your tongue touches my lips. Obediently, expectantly, I open them so that you may "untie" my own. You squeeze my forearm gently, but your kiss is not so gentle. It is forceful, so forceful that I grasp your back just so I may have the strength to let it happen, to return it. You accept it and place your hands on my own back as you kiss me; gently then desperately. I feel the way your skin breathes in my touch; I wonder if you can feel the same. I wonder if, despite my need to be clothed and your general oddities, we are one and the same at this moment. Eventually, the thought gets lost somewhere between us, if there is any space between us to be found. 

Eventually, you part from me and hold your forehead upon mine, breathing desperately. I pant for air as well, not removing my grasp on you as long as you don't remove yours from me. I've never felt as strongly as I have at this moment. Maybe the goddess within you chose this path with me because it was righteous. 

Maybe loving you is how it should go. 

"My Byleth," I repeat between haggard gasps. "My Byleth, my Byleth, my Byleth…" 

"El," you breathe. "El, I'm yours." 

I giggle, though a part of me wants to vomit off the balcony from pure adrenaline. "Damn, that's so good to hear." 

"Good." 

I'd hoped that our journey would end this way. For many reasons, it feels like hope against hope. Hope that I'd survive the war. Hope that I'd win; probable but not certain. Hope that I will live long enough to make use of it, which itself is a hope against hope against hope. Everything's been on a timer thanks to my abominable uncle. Everything except me and you and me loving you and you loving me back, but we haven't even finished the journey and yet… you are here. You are here and you are my reason to fight the final fight because I love you. 

"I like this," you admit. "I like this because when I joined the church I read in the library how they considered… well, homosexuality." 

I swallow a chuckle. "Did you now? I never cared nearly as much.” 

"It was my job, to teach here, so I got curious,” you explain simply. “It was strange that they regarded it as a sin. That's just who I was and it didn't make sense to change it for a goddess who knows when I lie. Now, here we are, fighting the church… and we are on the goddess tower now, where I can promise my devotion to you." 

I swallow. I can't hold back a singular sob. "Byleth, I-" I think of the final battle ahead of us. I think of falling and wince. I think of you falling and sob again, pulling my mind away. I want to tell myself that it won't happen, it won't, it  _ won't,  _ but as I admitted to you, I am a bad liar. 

"Are you okay?" You ask. Then, concerned, you ask "El... El, do you not want me to, El?" The idea of rejection makes your voice strain into a desperate whisper.

"Not yet," I say. "Please. Not yet. I want- I want you to be able to devote for a lifetime. If- if something happens, during the final battles… we could only devote to each other for a few days. I can't- I  _ can't,  _ Byleth." 

You meet my eyes with more purpose. "That's wise," you say. "But I believe that we'll both see that day." You smile, though you're shaking and I can't hold you close enough to stop it. Not yet. I know how to make it stop.

"I promise," I say. "We will be atop the world soon enough. And I promise that you won't be alone." 

_ Then I can care for you as you have for me. _

You smile. We have hard days ahead of us, but the way your lips curve makes me think that you know where your journey ends.

"I look forward to it, my El."

I smile and look forward to the day that I can make the promise, and when you can fulfill it.


End file.
